“How did you get in here?” she asked. Though even before he answered, Scarlett knew exactly what had happened.
The wink. The keys. The special arrangements. “She gave us the same room on purpose!”
“You did a very good job convincing her we’re in love.” Julian’s eyes cut to the lavish bed.
Scarlett’s cheeks blazed with red, the color of hearts and blood and shame. “I didn’t say we were in love—I only said we’re engaged.”
Julian laughed but Scarlett was aghast. “This isn’t funny. We can’t sleep in here together. If anyone finds out, I’ll be utterly ruined.”
“There you go being dramatic again. You think everything is going to destroy your life.”
But if anyone found out, it would destroy her engagement to the count. “You met my father. If he ever discovered I—”
“No one will find out. I imagine that’s why there are two doors with different numbers.” Julian crossed over to the enormous bed and threw himself on top of it.
“You can’t sleep on that bed,” Scarlett protested.
“Why not? It’s very comfortable.” Julian pulled off his boots, dropping them to the floor with loud thumps. Then he took off his waistcoat and went for the buttons of his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Scarlett said. “You can’t do that.”
“Listen, Crimson.” Julian stopped unbuttoning his shirt. “I told you I won’t touch you, and I promise to keep my word. But I am not sleeping on the floor or on that tiny lounge just because you’re a girl. This bed is big enough for the both of us.”
“You really think I’d get in a bed with you? Are you mad?” A ridiculous question, because clearly he was. He continued to unbutton his shirt, and she was certain he did so only because he knew it made her uncomfortable. Or maybe he just liked showing off.
Scarlett got another glimpse of his smooth muscles as she pivoted for the door. “I’m going back down to see if she has another room.”
“And what if she doesn’t?” Julian called.
“Then I’ll sleep in the hall.”
A gentleman would have protested, but Julian was not a gentleman. Something soft hit the floor. Most likely his shirt.
Scarlett reached for the glass doorknob.
“Hold on—”
A square lined with gold landed at her feet. An envelope. Her name written across the front in an elegant script.
“Found that on the bed. I’m imagining it’s your first clue.”
Scarlett’s nana used to say the world of Caraval was Master Legend’s great playground. No words were spoken that he didn’t hear. Not even a whisper could escape his ears, no shadow went unseen by his eyes. No one ever saw Legend—or if they did, they didn’t know it was him—but Legend saw all during Caraval.
Scarlett swore she felt his gaze on her as she stepped into the hall. She sensed it in the way the candlelit lanterns seemed to glow brighter, like eyes perking up, as she examined her message.
The envelope looked the same as every one Legend had sent her before, gold and cream and thick with mystery.
When she opened it, several red rose petals fell onto her palm, along with a key. Delicate green glass. Similar to the one she’d been given for her room, only this key had a number five etched into it, and attached to it was a tiny black ribbon, which held a wide slip of paper with one name: Donatella Dragna.
Scarlett knew this was supposed to be her first clue. But to her it felt more like a gift from Legend, just like the dress and the invitations to the isle. Scarlett had found it difficult to believe she was special in the clock shop, but maybe she was feeling a touch of Caraval magic, for she found herself daring to hope that Legend was indeed treating her differently, taking care of her again by showing her where her sister was. For a moment Scarlett felt as if everything was going to be right and bright.
She flew down the hall until she reached the steps to the third floor. Room five came after room eleven: a square teal door with a green glass handle that looked a bit like a giant gemstone. Gaudy and magnificent. Perfect for Tella.
Scarlett started to use her key, but the breathing on the other side of the door sounded a little too loud for Tella. A smoky-ginger prickle of discomfort crawled down Scarlett’s neck as she put her ear closer to the door.
Thud.
Something heavy dropped to the floor.
Followed by a groan.
“Tella—” Scarlett reached for the handle. “Are you all right?”
“Scarlett?” Tella’s voice sounded strained, out of breath.
“Yes! It’s me, I’m coming in!”
“No—don’t!”
Another loud thud.
“Tella, what’s going on in there?”
“Nothing—just—do not come in.”
“Tella, if there’s something wrong—”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m—just—busy—” Tella broke off.
Scarlett hesitated. Something was wrong. Tella didn’t sound like herself.
“Scarlett!” Tella’s voice rang loud and clear, as if she could see her sister reaching for the knob. “If you open that door I will never speak to you again.”
Her tone was low, and this time it was echoed by a deep voice. A young man’s voice.
“You heard your sister,” he said.
The words ricocheted through the crooked hall, hitting Scarlett like a burst of unwanted wind, reaching into all the places her clothing couldn’t protect.